The Night Falling
by obaona
Summary: A letter is read. Technically Anakin/Padme. Hopefully with a twist.


Title: The Night Falling

Summary: A letter is read.

A/N: Dedicated to my b/f, Burkie. I wrote this for him. It came out a bit dark, but that's okay – he says "Psycho is good!" grins

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The light of day was slowing ceding to the muted gray of dusk. Light filtered in through large windows, illumination coming both from the natural glare of Coruscant's sun, and the more colorful arrays from the city-planet. Coruscant was a place where one never slept. At every moment something of importance was happening. 

The man crept quietly into the study. It was surprisingly opulent and large, especially for Coruscant. Huge windows lined two walls, curving gracefully inward, and molding to the design of the tower. A black, curved desk was placed in the center of the room, facing the doorway. There were few things on it, a small holoprojector and other things needed for an officer in the Republic military. The slowly setting sun was creating long, but indistinct shadows. As the man walked in, the sun hit his face fully for a moment – then he turned to the side, and his expression was hidden.

He slowly paced over, to behind the desk. A hand trailed the edge of the desk, feeling its perfect smoothness – Aleki stone, very rare and very expensive. But that was not unusual or surprising . . . Palpatine himself had gotten this office ready. The man let his fingers trail from the desk to the old-fashioned papers and documents on pads that were spread before the seat. The old-fashioned paper was rough and harshly real against his callused fingertips. 

Moving with aching grace, the man stood behind the desk, and let his hands brace against it as he lowed himself into the seat. The seat immediately began to conform to his body, a device of decadent luxury. The man shifted uncomfortably for a moment, his features still lost in the darkness as the fading light swept over him. Hesitantly, with fingers searching, the man explored the desk. Apparently at random, he paused.

The paper rustled faintly in the silence as he opened its folded and crumpled form. Hands – strong but careful – straightened the paper. 

And he began to read.

_Dear Anakin,_

_It has been too long since we have seen each other. Months. I have my matters of state – the Senator from Kish has kept trying to push his ridiculous legislation through – and you have the war to keep you occupied. I fear for you, fighting out there. I know war is a rough and harsh thing . . . Naboo experienced it, and I, as its elected ruler at the time, was left to deal with its consequences. _

_I pray that this war does not last any longer. _

_Chancellor Palpatine has increasingly used the powers granted to him in this emergency. I wish to believe he is doing what he believes is best, but I cannot help but find myself puzzled at some of his actions. He had two Senators that I knew and trusted arrested today, publicly. I do not know what they did, and he will not tell me, under the guise that it is a matter for the Chancellor, not a mere Senator as I am. He did not say it that way, of course, but I know what he meant. You must look for meanings of words, not words themselves, when dealing with a politician. _

_I know you trust him deeply, Anakin, but I must advise you to be cautious with him. He has always supported you, and helped you and I, but something feels wrong to me. He talks to me of your great future, of your great power, and you have told me he says the same to you. It seems like too much flattery, to my ears. Anakin, for my sake please be careful. He is still a politician – and no, my love, I am not so naïve to think that all politicians are good. And stop laughing, I know you are! Don't tease me about my position. _

_Things on Naboo are going well. Most of our soldiers have been able to visit home, and been able to come home safely. It is such a gift for them, Anakin. Thank you for arranging it for your men. I have been mostly staying here, on Naboo. Things at the Senate have been growing tenser, and my ability to deal with it has decreased. I find myself impatient. _

_I only want you. I want to feel your touch, to know the depth of your love in your eyes again. I want you to tell me you love me – not in the recorded gaze of a holoprojector, or the words of a letter, but to me. I want my husband back, and nothing – not war; not peace – seems as important at this moment. Perhaps it will be different later, but I feel as if my actions have been for naught. I have tried to fight for peace, for the men that you command, but the Senate seems determined to throw their lives away. I am so frustrated, Anakin, and I need you. _

_Do you remember the day we got married? We couldn't tell anyone what we were doing, and the ceremony had to be brief and simple. You crept into my mother's house, since I refused to get married in anything but the dress my own mother was married in. Do you remember how you got the box, but fell into the vines when you were coming out the window? And I laughed; it was perfect. I still don't know how you managed to stay so quiet, creeping into my parent's house like that. I try to think of that moment every time I hear of another battle that you were involved in, but it is becoming harder. _

_I need new memories to keep me strong, Anakin. I have never felt such love as I feel for you – so strong, uncontrolled and full of passion. I wish now that the threat against my life had lasted longer, so that you might have protected me – and those days after our marriage would have stretched. _

_You have responsibilities, and I have mine. Sometimes, we must do what is required of us. But that is only sometimes. Please, Anakin, come back to me. I know that your command is coming close to Naboo very soon, and I believe we may be able to meet. I want to see you. I discovered something important after you left that last time – at the request of your Master Kenobi – and I need to tell you the news face to face. I read your letters, full of knowledge of battles and power. I fear for you. You spoke of the hypocrisy of the Jedi Council. I know you hate them for forcing us to keep our marriage secret – and even these precious letters that we must hide and send to each other so carefully – but must we consume our little time together with such things? You spoke of dark things in your last letter. Power only means so much.  Anakin, I only want you. The boy who told me he was going to marry me. The man who told me he loved me. _

_I await your return,_

_Your wife, _

_Padme Amidala Skywalker _

The man, Obi-Wan Kenobi, carefully put the letter down. With quick, efficient movements – none of it betraying any emotion – he folded the letter up and placed it exactly as he had found it. He sat the desk a moment longer, his back straight and proud. Then, slowly, his elbows rested on the desk. He put his face in his hands, and let his fingers trail through his hair, messing it. He gripped it tightly, and let out a strangled noise of anguish. 

"Anakin, what have you done?" he whispered hoarsely, into the serene silence of the study. 

The sun behind him set, finally, its glare and glamour easing away to the night. Electric and powerful colors of the fading sunset leapt into existence, the harbinger of a dying light. But even those faded, as they must in their time. The shadows fell away and night fell at last.

_Fin._


End file.
